Page 3 of Christmas Obsession

“It’s Mabel, isn’t it?” A grin builds slowly on his face. “I saw the way you were looking at her the other day when I stopped in to drop off the blueprints for the changes.”

I draw in a deep breath and turn away to see the plow pushing a few inches of wet snow down Main Street.

“Come on,” he presses. “All you gotta do is deny it.”

Shaking my head, I turn back toward him. “I don’t have a thing for Mabel.”

“You fucking liar!” he laughs. “It’s so fucking obvious.”

My chest tightens. “Thought you said you’d believe me if I denied it?”

“I made no such promise, brother.” He shakes his head. “Why does this have to be a secret?”

For some reason, it feels like I’ve given the keys to the safe away. Like now that Hank knows, half the mountain is about to. “Look, it’s a little crush. That’s all. Nothing can come of it, so I need you to keep your mouth shut.”

“Why can’t anything come of it?” He crosses his arms over his chest as he talks, the snow picking up around us. “You’re the boss and the owner. You make the rules.”

“Exactly. Do you know how long it took me to gain the trust of this community? If I start some romance with the assistant I’ve had for ten years, all that will disappear. Plus, everyone loves Mabel. You know she’s still volunteering at the senior center five nights a week? If we ever broke up, I’d be the villain and no one would hire me again.”

“Who says you’d break up?” He shrugs as though this whole thing is perfectly simple. “You two complement each other.”

I want to ask him to support his thoughts, but they don’t mean anything. No matter how well Mabel and I balance each other, nothing can happen between us. End of story.

“Well,” I shake my head and drag in a deep, cold breath, “I need to stop allowing us to complement each other then.”

“You’ve worked together for ten years. She knows everything about you. You know everything about her. The woman bakes you muffins twice a week. You bring her coffee every morning. You’ve helped her through her mother’s death. She stood by you when every other contractor in town wanted to riot with pitchforks. That shit doesn’t just disappear.”

“Right,” I groan. “What about you? Aren’t you secretly in love with someone you can’t have? Why is that any different?”

He laughs under his breath and swipes his hand down over his beard as though I’ve rattled him. “You know the woman I’m in love with really is off limits,” his tone drops, “so we aren’t going there.”

I could stand here and push him like he pushed me, but I have too much of my own shit going on right now, so I change the subject. “You better get decorating this place if we’re going to win that grant from the governor.” I nod toward the inn as I pace back out to my truck.

“How about you tell Mabel you’re in love with her and I’ll get this place decorated? Deal?”

I shake my head as I climb up into the old truck I inherited from my grandfather and start up the engine. If I could tell Mabel I was in love with her, I’d have done it already. Hell, I’d have done it ten times over.

I’d have picked her up, tossed her into my truck, drove her up to some secluded cabin in the woods, and I’d have had my way with her over and over again until our bodies were too exhausted to move. Then, I’d have slept with her in my arms, mumbling how perfect she is for the rest of the night.

I don’t know when my feelings for her started, but I do know that absorbing her take on the world every day in the office was affirmation that the fifteen-year struggle that Shannon and I went through meant that we were never right for each other.

This whole thing is too damn complicated, and I need to stop saying the word ‘love.’ It’s a crush. That’s all this is.

I’m back out on Main Street with intentions to head to the corner market when I notice Mabel leaving the office, snow and wind whipping up her short black dress as she approaches a tall, thin man with a mustache near the lamppost by the diner.

I don’t mean to be judgmental, but I think she could do better.

Snowflakes fall over her hair as she greets the stranger with a hug, and a pang of jealousy rushes through me like a live wire, taunting every nerve in my body to react.

I should keep driving. This is none of my fucking business. Mabel is a grown woman. If she wants to have dinner with every man in Rugged Mountain, that’s her prerogative. Trouble is, my brain and my body aren’t agreeing, and soon I’m pulling into the parking spot beside the man who’s got his hands on my girl, unsure of what the fuck I’m going to do next.

Chapter Three

Mabel

Snow falls heavier and heavier by the moment, and though I don’t like judging a book by its cover, I know within the first five seconds that this man is not my type. I mean, he’s tall, so he has that going for him, and he’s dressed nicely, which is also a plus, but when Allie said he owned his own heating and cooling company, I assumed that meant he’d have a little grit to him. This guy looks like he does the books or the advertising, which is fine. Those guys are great too… in their own way. They’re just not for me, which is probably why I’m a forty-one-year-old virgin.

God, Mabel, get it together! You don’t even know the guy. He could be great. He could be the best husband any woman could ever want. I mean, his hands are big. That’s a bonus.